


Maybe

by witchymarvelspacecase



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 12:16:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13213587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchymarvelspacecase/pseuds/witchymarvelspacecase





	Maybe

When you were young, your mother had jokingly told you that you were part fey; she told you that was the reason you were so bad around any kind of technology. She’d told you that fairies were notoriously horrible with tech; whenever they were around, mechanical objects would go awry. As a kid, that had made you feel better about your inability to work with anything electronic, but as you got older and tech evolved and really wormed its way into everyone’s lives… well you started to struggle. 

At SHIELD, you’d been able to mask your abnormality by keeping yourself out in the field as often as possible. But when Natasha had brought you into the Avengers, Tony Stark had taken your special circumstances as a personal challenge. Which was why you’d started spending so much time in his lab. 

You liked Tony; he was fun to be around, but his lab was a room of potential doom for you. When it came to tech, you were the living embodiment of murphy’s law. Mostly you chose to spend your time with Clint, Natasha and Bucky; even though Clint called you annoying names, and Natasha would surprise attack you to help you “train”.

Lately, it was like trouble was following you around. The day before, it had been the sprinkler system malfunctioning and drenching you. Now, one of Tony’s robots was following you around.

“Okay seriously?!” you squeaked as another of Tony’s robots almost ran you into the wall; you had to climb onto a table to avoid it.

“I can fix it” Tony called, chasing after the bot. He caught it, fiddled with the wiring for a second and stepped away. The bot came over to you again, and this time, it zapped you.

“Ow! Okay, you little shit, I get the message! Tony, you’re on your own today,” you yelled as you sprinted out of the lab before any other machines could malfunction.

You headed to the roof, knowing that there weren’t any mechanical things up there to break. When you pushed the door open, you were greeted by crisp fall air and an all encompassing fog. Stepping to the side of the door, you pressed your back to the wall and slid into a sitting position, enjoying the pressing silence that could only come with fog and snowfall. Not that it lasted long, but your heart rate had lowered and your head was clear by the time the door opened again.

“Hey Bucky,” you said. If someone had to interrupt, you were glad it was Bucky. He carried a quiet calm with him that was comfortable for you to be around. Only Natasha had a similar aura; you assumed that it was an assassin thing. Tony was continuously confused by the fact that Bucky’s arm was never affected by you. For something so inherently technological in nature, it should have been unsafe for you to be around, but it had never reacted to your presence. Bucky would just smile and say that it must have been cause he was special; you never responded, but to you, he  _ was _ special. He was the only one who hadn’t treated you any differently. Even before you knew that his arm was immune to your glitch, he made sure to sit by you, to talk to you. You had appreciated that more than you could ever explain. 

“Hey, Stark said you were having a hard time and disappeared, so I said I’d find ya.” He gave you a small, lopsided smile.

“Yeah, the robots didn’t like me today Just like every other day. I wish he’d just let it go.”

“He’s just tryin’ to help.”

“Mmmm,” you hummed, pushing yourself to your feet, “I’m pretty sure it just offends Tony’s delicate sensibilities that his stuff doesn’t work around me. He’s trying to make his shit Y/N proof.”

Bucky chuckled as he held the door open for you, “c’mon, we’ve got a mission briefing.” The two of you walked to the conference room in companionable silence.

…

“Simple ‘in-and-out’ mission my ass,” you grumbled as you crawled your way along the ground, now searching for a way into the suspected HYDRA base. You and Sam were supposed to wait outside, but that had been when Bucky, Steve, and Clint were going to be ‘in-and-out’ in 10 minutes; it was now pushing 20 and your earbud had stopped working. Sam had been in the air, landing next to you when he heard your comm link die. The two of you had then re-planned. Now, he was back in the air, communicating with the boys inside, and you were on your way in.

Not the best plan, but you knew the building schematics, and Sam didn’t. Sam had tried to talk you out of it, but the facts were the facts. You hugged him, told him to pay more attention to briefings, and then ran towards the building.

The building was surrounded in fog; but whereas you’d found the fog back home comforting, now it felt cloying, and suffocating. The fog hid you from view of any guards, but it also prevented you from seeing Sam as you reached the door. The door had a keypad at the side. Cursing, you rested a hand on its surface, hoping that your abnormality would work  _ for you _ for once. To your utter shock, it did; the keypad sparked a few times before dying, and the lock popped open. Shaking your head in amazement, you ran inside. Could that work again?

You came up the end of the hallway, the fork on your left had a set of doors, the fork on your right had another hallway, and an electrical panel. You took a breath, and set your hands on either side of the panel. Not a moment later sparks were flying. The klaxon that had been sounding cut out, and the bright florescent lights dimmed to an emergency red. You smiled, but continued down the hallway towards where your guys were supposed to be. You didn’t want to read too much into your curse working out for you, but once you got the guys home, there would be some heavy experimentation. 

Bucky had been sprinting down the hall, towards Steve and Barton when the lights had died. He skidded to a halt just in front of them and looked around. He’d seen an electrical panel on their way in, but had left it alone, so why was the power out? He was drawn out of his thoughts as more bullets sounded from the room in front of him. Steve was hit, so was Barton, and had the shooter not been off to Bucky’s left, Bucky would have been hit several times too. Steve was trying to communicate with Sam as Bucky helped them into a somewhat shielded corner. 

“We got the intel, and this is definitely a base, but now we gotta get out.” Steve paused as Sam replied.

“We figured something was wrong. Y/N is on her way in.”

‘What?!” Bucky shouted, a little louder than he’d intended.

“Look man she knew the layout better than me, she’s headed to your location now. Her comm is on the fritz again, but-”

“You sent her in here even though her comm is out?!”

“Barnes, you ever tried talking her out of doing something? She wanted to go in, and I don’t have the info she does.” Bucky spat curses in russian as he continued to trade shots with the attackers across the hall. He knew how stubborn Y/N was, but her coming in here, deaf to the situation, was beyond stupid. 

“Buck, Y/N’s tough, she’ll be fine,” Steve sighed, leaning heavily against the wall.

“Besides,” Barton added with a small chuckle, “she’s already helping.”

“What’d’ya mean?”

“Who else could’ve blown the lights and siren already?”

…

Gunshots sounded ahead of you.  _ “Welp, I think I’ve found the boys,” _ you thought dryly, hoping they weren’t too bad off. Thinking back to the building schematics, you estimated the shooter’s location. Assuming they were where you thought, you could sneak up on them from behind by accessing the catwalk overhead. Backtracking to the staircase that would go up to the catwalk, you moved quietly over to where the shots were sounding from. You could see the shooters, and if you looked hard enough, you were pretty sure you saw Steve’s shield across the hall, tucked partially around a corner. 

The room the shooters were in still had power, they had computers going too. Two of the enemies were armed and at the door, with two more running the equipment, they appeared to be wiping the computer system. 

The catwalk you were on allowed you to reach the wall where the computers were mounted, so, crossing your fingers, you set both hands against the wall. This time you  _ felt _ the sparks. They didn’t hurt, but they didn’t feel like kisses either. Gritting your teeth, you kept your hands in place as the computers short circuited. The wall must have been housing more than you thought, smoke poured from the ruined electronics, filling the room with acrid smelling, hot fog. 

The enemies screamed and ran out of the room as you vaulted the railing of the catwalk. You landed rather clumsily; your hands burning slightly, and your arms and legs tingling as you made your way to the door. You crossed to where the boys were hiding just in time to see Steve bitch-slap the last enemy with his shield.

Bucky looked up and saw you exit the room, the dense electrical fog behind you, and a small smile on your face. He jogged up to you, checking to see if you were hurt, and noticing your static electricity hair-do. He took your hands which he noticed were red and very hot to the touch, but before he could say anything, Clint spoke up.

“Hey Y/N, what happened to your hair?” Clint called from across the hall as Steve helped him up. Bucky groaned and rolled his eyes; of course Barton went for the joke. You looked over, seeing the wound on Clint’s leg and the two on Steve’s torso before your hands went to your head. Your hair was sticking almost straight up.

“Uh, not really sure, but at least I’m not leaking blood everywhere,” you said with a sigh as you pulled your hair down and tucked it into the hood of the jacket you were wearing.

…

Once everyone was out, and on the jet home, you explained what you could to the others. Tony, who Sam had patched into the comms on your request was stunned. Clint was laughing and trying to come up with new names for you; his old favorite had been “Murphy”. Steve was resting, and not really listening, and Bucky was smiling at you the whole time.

“What?” you finally asked once Tony had signed off, promising to help you figure out what was going on once you got home. Bucky had been smiling at you the whole time.

“Nothin’, I just knew ya weren’t bad luck the whole time. Glad you know it now.”

“I could still be, just worked out this time.”

“Maybe, or maybe your ma was right. Maybe you’ve got somethin’ else in ya.” He nudged your shoulder with his and you leaned your head against it, smiling.

“Maybe.”


End file.
